Fixing My Mistakes
by KrRcksMySx
Summary: "Fear gripped my heart and I waited for the impending slap I was sure to receive. I just prayed she didn't decide to revive "Madame Fist" and pummel me." Rated M for extreme adult themes.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Fear gripped my heart and I waited for the impending slap I was sure to receive. I just prayed she didn't decide to revive "Madame Fist" and pummel me.

This wasn't going the way I planned at all. My final night at home before leaving for college two states away was meant to be spent with my long-time best friend just goofing off.

Despite the fact that my best friend was not only a girl, but THE girl considered to be the town's harlot had never come between our friendship. When rumors of her giving the entire football team blowjobs were circling the high school halls I didn't treat her any differently, unlike some of our other friends. When she confided in me how thankful she was to have a friend who didn't judge her according to rumors of her blowing the entire football team, and told me the truth that it was only about five guys, I didn't condemn her like our mutual friend, Vince, did. I had always kept my thoughts to myself about her lifestyle choice.

Why I decided that tonight of all nights to end this, I don't know. She pressured me. Just her and that skimpy black bikini she was running around the creek in.

In all honesty it wasn't even the real reason that I wound up telling her. I couldn't bring myself to admit feelings for her, and instead blurted out the first thing that came into my mind as an excuse for not accepting her seducement.

"Geez, Spin, cause who the hell knows what kind of shit you got going on down there!"

I'm a genius. Yeah, TJ, accusing her of having STDs is a great way to get out of having sex with your best friend, and biggest crush.

Of course I instantly regretted it, realized my mistake and braced myself for the oncoming slaughter. So here I am, scared shitless for whatever she's going to dish out for me.

Surprisingly she didn't punch me. She took a step away from me, distancing herself from the way her body had been pressed up against mine, just seconds earlier. I saw shock on her face first, then hurt, then came the anger I was waiting for.

"What the hell?" She screeched at me, and put her hands on her hips. "Are you accusing me of what I think you are?" She accused.

I liked the idea of her slapping or punching me better than this.

"I… Uh…" I stammered.

"Fuck you, Deitwieler!" She yelled at me before slowing running through the water back towards the shore.

"Spinelli!" I yelled after her.

She was already on land and had grabbed her clothes, hurriedly walking down the trail that led to the road that would lead her home. I started after her, not far behind. She was walking down the road by the time I reached her.

"Spinelli, look…" I tried reasoning with her. "I don't want to leave like this."

"Well, maybe you shoulda thought of that before letting me know how you really feel." She yelled back, refusing to make eye contact.

"No, just let me…"

"Look, don't bother. How are you gonna come back from that one? Honestly." She said, looking me in the eye. I couldn't speak, I didn't know what to say.

She walked on down the road and I stopped following her, watching her walk down the road before eventually hitching a ride.

(five years later)

"Seriously, the guy's not thirteen anymore, I think a better desktop background is in order." I muttered to myself, noticing my roomate's picture of scantily clad females stretched over his 27-inch screen as I logged on to check on my email quickly.

I pulled up Firefox and was greeted with an even better visual of actual naked women in video form. "Oh god." I half moaned half screamed. "Danny, all I want to do is check my email, not watch your personal porn collection!" I yelled into the hall.

"What the hell are you doin'?" I heard from the living room, as Danny no doubt came rushing to see his prized collection. "What'd you bring it up for?" He asked me as he tried to close it out, yelling above the extra loud moans coming from the monitor.

I was giving him the stink eye, about to explain that I did nothing when I noticed something, more precisely someone. A brunette bombshell with chocolate eyes (filled with lust, mind you) caught my attention.

"Wait!" I yelled and pushed Danny's hand away from the mouse.

"Well, if you wanted to watch it why'd you call me in here?" He whined. I shot him a quick look.

"No, I…" I trailed off, entranced by the girl who was now doing things to a man that I really didn't ever want to see her doing to anyone.

I looked away from the screen, not wanting to actually see her participating in the porn, but looked at Danny, who was staring intently at it anyway.

"Who is that?" I asked.

"What?" Danny asked, distracted from watching.

"Who is that girl?" I asked pointing at the brunette.

"Oh, that's Sparkles. She's like the Audrey Hepburn of porn, man." He explained, nonchalantly. I stared at him for a minute. "Well, you know, I hear that… You, know." He added sheepishly.

I looked back at the screen, to be greeted with a close-up of "Sparkles'" face scrunching up in pleasure at whatever that hairy man was doing behind her. My heart pounded in my chest.

"I know her." I said, softly.

"Huh?"

"That girl, Sparkly or whatever, I know her." I said as I opened up a new tab and opened my Facebook. I knew she wouldn't come up, she had blocked me, but I tried anyways. Still nothing came up. "Here, you log in." I said thrusting the mouse and keyboard at my friend.

He obliged and I searched her again. Sure enough, the same face that had been scrunched up in pleasure in the porn that my roommate hat watched, came up on Ashley Spinelli's Facebook page.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I sat in my room alone. Danny about threw a fit after I revealed the fact that I knew his favorite porn star. After hounding me with questions for what seemed like hours I told him to leave me alone and stomped into my own room. I laid down on my bed and stared at the ceiling, staring at the pattern up there until I couldn't tell if it was sticking out or indenting in.

I knew she was kind of a "loose" woman, but I had never imagined in my entire life that she would get into something like, that. How do you even get started in that? I mean I don't think anyone grows up saying that they want to grow up to be a porn star. When she was asked that question in elementary school she answered professional wrestler, not hooker. I guess she's doing a different kind of "wrestling" now.

Oh god, the visuals.

I'm not some prude, I mean I've seen porn before, and "stroked the snake," so to speak, but I don't usually think of people I know. Okay, so I've thought of her before while doing it, but not of her with other people, doing what I just saw her doing. Plus the fact that Danny's seen her multiple times, not to mention the millions of other men that have. Or females, I guess, I don't judge.

I haven't been with a ton of girls, so I guess it makes me a little more old fashioned, but I've always thought of sex as a bigger deal than just some one-night-stand. I've always rolled my eyes at the boys that go out on weekends just to "get some" and then never pursue the girl afterwards. I don't know, blame Becky (my older sister) for forcing me to watch chick flicks with her on the weekends when I was young and impressionable, making me feel that activity and cruel and cold-hearted.

I hadn't talked to Spinelli since our fight before I left for college. It's been five years. I know I've changed a bit, and she obviously has. I wonder if she still holds a grudge against me. Surely not, I mean, it's been five years.

I just want to talk to her now. I hadn't even thought of her in at least a year. Small things will catch my eye and I'd think of her and wonder how she was for a little while, but I never tried to contact her. At first I'd been afraid to, then I felt sheepish for not ever contacting her, so I never got around to talking to her.

What would I even say? "Hey, so I saw you in a porn the other day…" Yeah, I'm sure that would go well. Besides what if she's still mad at me, or just mad at me because I haven't talked to her in so long?

What is it about girls that make life so complicated? Technically she kind of is an official slut now, but god forbid I ever bring that up.

Besides, how would I even get a hold of her? I've changed phones so much that I don't even have her number she had way back then, if she even still uses that number. Plus she's blocked me on Facebook, the only other viable way to contact her. I suppose I could somehow get her parent's number, if they still live where they did when I left. And would they even let me get a hold of her if I talked to them?

Do they even know how to get a hold of her? Do they know their daughter is a porn star? If they do, do they still communicate with her? I imagine if Becky ever did that and they found out, that my parents would excommunicate her.

But I want to talk to her so badly now. I rolled over and grabbed my cell phone off my nightstand and called my parents. Crossing my fingers that my mom would know how to contact the Spinellis.

* * *

I ignored yet another unknown phone number on my home phone. God, if I have to change my phone number again, the phone people are going to be pissed at me. I don't know how many times I've had to do this, let alone how many times I've had to change where I live, just because of my profession.

I know I should have been aware that the people that watch my videos probably aren't the sanest people ever, but still. Stalking is not cool.

My voicemail picked up the call and I jumped out of my chair to delete the message, so I wouldn't have to listen to some creepy guy breathe heavily into my answering machine.

"Hey…" I tripped over the dog, and tried to get up.

"I hope I have the right number, the answering machine says this is Carla?" Oh god, no. Just gotta make it to the machine before this guy gets creepy.

"But I'm looking for… Spinelli?" The way he said my name. My real name. No one knows my real name. Not even Bob, my manager. It couldn't be. Him.

"It's, uh, T.J." My heart froze. Oh. My. God. I was at the machine now. Staring at it. I snatched the phone and picked it up.

"Hello?" I said into the receiver. Fuck. Why did I pick up?

"Hey, Spinelli?" He replied. I hesitated.

"… Yeah." Shit, I shouldn't have answered the phone. I could have just listened to the message.

"Um… I, uh, just wanted to, uh, you know…" He sounded so weird. "I'm sorry." He said quickly, and then sighed loudly.

I didn't know what to say. I hadn't talked to him in five years. I was so different from what I was then. Immensely different. You're a porn star. My inner self said, and I blushed.

I had forgiven him the night it happened, but I wasn't going to apologize, why should I? I wasn't the one in the wrong. But still, I didn't have to be so stubborn. Five years. Shit.

I realized neither of us had said anything in a while and mumbled some kind of an "Um."

"God, you probably don't even want to talk to me." He muttered.

"No!" I shouted, then slapped myself upside the face. "I mean, no. I… I'm glad you called." I tried to play it cool. I was never cool around Deitwieler.

"Oh, good." He replied, sounding relieved. "I, uh, got your number from your parents. I just… Saw a… Picture of you the other day, and wanted to… talk to you." He said.

Oh, shit. He didn't. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.


End file.
